


Blooming Dawn with Hint of Shade

by Ramzes



Series: Night So Dark and Star So Pale [10]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Don't copy to another site, Finally, Multi, i can't believe i wrote a happy-ish Elia/Arthur story, something good in this rather dark series, takes place immediately after Captive Sun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:21:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22257898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ramzes/pseuds/Ramzes
Summary: Almost making peace with the past is a good thing. Can it be a real ground for carving out a future, though, and not a happy fairytale one? Arthur Dayne will have to find the answer.
Relationships: Arthur Dayne/Elia Martell
Series: Night So Dark and Star So Pale [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/872478
Comments: 12
Kudos: 16





	Blooming Dawn with Hint of Shade

The hours stretched on, as slow as they had never been since his time in that damned tower. He waited… and waited… and did not dare quite look at her because he feared that everyone would see it. The hunger. The power of his wish to make time go faster before she could change her mind. Or he could wake up. Whatever.

The one who took him out of this misery was the Lord Commander, as unwittingly as it was. “The Princess is never going to get tired of meddling in our duties,” he groaned. “Now, she wants to replace Oswell with you for tonight, Arthur. We can never have anything planned if she keeps going like this. What happened to the times when the rulers let their Kingsguard take care of their own schedule?”

“These times never were,” Jaime Lannister said evenly, the man who had been King Aerys’ constant shadow – not because of Ser Gerold’s choosing.

“It isn’t as if we have this much to do anyway,” Oswell said reasonably and Arthur gave him a long look before looking away.

“He has no idea,” Mors Blackmont said quietly as they dispersed. “He might be witty and observant but he isn’t _this_ observant.”

The usual bite had disappeared from his face some time ago. Mostly. Not entirely. Now, it was back or almost and Arthur didn’t know what the reason was. “And you have some idea?” he asked and Mors shrugged.

“I know how men like you are,” he said.

“Men like me…” Arthur started but the younger man had already disappeared into his cell, closing the door firmly behind him and Arthur forgot about him soon enough as he resumed his waiting.

Some years later, the Red Keep fell asleep. About six months later, Elia opened the door of her bedchamber, held his hand and brought him inside. His mouth went dry. She had not even bothered with a dressing-gown and stood in front of him in a nightgown. “Time could not flow fast enough,” she breathed.

“I thought you might have changed your mind,” he managed and she did not ask why. Perhaps she was as tired of this game of wanting him and not wanting him that had been going on for months. Perhaps it had been harder on her than he had realized. Avenging oneself on a man because of the deeds of another man, mostly, surely required some energy.

Elia shook her head. “You have not changed,” she said, “so I haven’t either.”

He blinked. “How so?” He felt like a new man. Not a better one but rather, one who was hurting. Finally coming to terms with the reality of making a choice that had led so many countrymen, so many _friends_ to die… it was not like the most vauntesd Kingsguard at all. To be Ser Arthur Dayne first, even only in his mind, and a Kingsguard second… it was a monumental change.

Elia waved it off. “Take these off,” she said. “I want to see you.”

He moved but not fast enough, it seemed, for she came closer and reached to unclasp the white cloak herself. It made a puddle at her feet and for a moment, Arthur feared that she would trod upon it. She did not.

Between the two of them, he was divested of clothes – any clothes - soon enough. Elia stood before him, drinking him in, as if she had never seen him like this in their stolen moments before. “Welcome back,” she whispered, drawing his head down for a kiss and still, he did not understand what she meant.

This time, it was different. It was not about revenge at all and she no longer tried to hide it. For the first time ever, Arthur did not feel any silver-haired shadow crossing either her mind or his own. Hours later, it would occur to him that this was, in fact, the best revenge of all but now, he could think of nothing but her and what they were doing.

“Go to sleep,” he said after a while. “I can wake up whenever I want. They won’t find me in your bed, I promise,” he added, feeling her reluctance.

Elia looked at him, her face very pale in the light of the single candle. “I don’t want to go to sleep at this time if I haven’t earlier,” she said. “I dream of what used to be. Of them.”

Arthur had expected to hear Rhaegar’s name but in a way, it was natural that he did not. Whatever grief she might feel for the husband she had once thought she had, she was allowed to express it openly. Her grief for her countrymen, her friends was another matter, though. Everyone had lost someone dear. It would not do for the King’s mother to grieve openly for those fallen on one side. He wondered why he had never thought about this before. Of course, he knew the answer.

“I try not to,” he finally said. “You didn’t wrong them in any way, Elia. I did.”

“Did it work? Not thinking about this?”

He hesitated, realizing just how important his answer was, yet unwilling to lie to her just to win her favour. “It did,” he said. “For a while. Until the living came along. And even then, it worked, mostly. Until today.”

She was pensive and a little sad – he could say by the shade falling over her face, a shade that had nothing to do with the play of light and shadow that the candle danced across her cheeks and those dark Martell eyes. And then, impulsively, she snuggled closer, taking his hand in hers, and Arthur felt the thin skin that had formed across the would break. _It’s a good thing,_ he thought. _One should never wish for skin over a festering wound._

“It’s so strange,” he said eventually. “I wanted to save you. That was all I was trying to do – and at the end, it might be you who saves me.”

Acceptance. He did not need to tell her how important this was. Elia had never been accepted at this court for who she was but rather, how she was – frail and delicate of health. The rejection he suffered from the hands of his true brother – just how stupid could he have been to believe that comradeship and affection in the Kingsguard could replace this bond? – and his fellow Dornish men and women stung, as if he had not been the one to reject them first.

“No one can save another person, Arthur,” Elia said instead. “Not even a white knight. We must be our own saviors, the saviors of our inner… us, I suppose. I am happy that you have started to come back to yourself. I knew you had done it for Arel and I wondered if you would do it again for him. For the rest of us who still love you despite everything. For me.”

This again. Coming back to himself. He frowned. “What do you mean? You were one of those who always told me that I have lost Arthur Dayne when I joined the Kingsguard.”

Elia laughed softly, not raising her head. Her voice was muffled against his flesh when she said, “Oh I did. But I did it to taunt you, most of the time. I knew Arthur Dayne was still there. You proved it when you returned some five or six years ago, when you have already started building repute for yourself and thus, for Rhaegar for being your friend.”

“How so?”

“Do you remember that feast in the Old Palace that we threw for the new Tyroshi envoy?” she asked.

Arthur did not.

“I can’t remember where Arel was but Shanai was in Sunspear. And then, a fool of a man, quite ill-mannered, I must say, tried to take liberties with her.”

“Ah, this.” Details started rippling towards the surface of Arthur’s memory. “Donnel Manwoody. I remember. I just stared at him and said, “This one will have his face redecorated.”

“I know,” Elia said. “I heard you. Honestly, I didn’t believe you’d follow it through. Not the way it sounded. I mean, the noble way was to challenge him or something. You and the rest of Rhaegar’s circle were already trying to prove yourselves different from Aerys’ brutality. Like knights from songs.”

Arthur huffed. “The noble way is for the noble-minded, not uncouth fools,” he said, not wanting to remember the times when they had done this and believed that they could be different, that they already were. “Yes, when he saw me coming, he immediately said that I should wait and he should explain. I didn’t wait, though. And I didn’t use Dawn. I just used my fists for a blow or three. Oberyn was thrilled.”

“So was I,” Elia said. “You see, I knew you could break with the duties Rhaegar imposed on you for Arel’s sake. I wondered why you couldn’t do it for me when he told you what he intended.”

Because it had been different at home, with his old friends around, when everything around him was so familiar, his prince had been far away and his own self-determination not having been shaped by his striving to be what Rhaegar wanted him to be for nearly this long. He did not say a thing.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter now,” Elia said sleepily. “Wake me up before the candle reaches dawn,” she added and closed her eyes, making herself comfortable with her back to him but pulling him close behind her.

Before dawn, though, he simply did not have the heart to wake her up. She looked so peaceful. Instead, he kissed her lightly on the lips and fluffed his pillow so the indentation of his head would not show. Odds were, the person who came first to her bedchamber would be Dornish but why invite the risk? He left on soundless feet and took his post in front of the door just when another door opened down the hall and from an adjacent chamber out came his brother. They looked at each other and then away – right before another steps of footfalls echoed. Mors Blackmont was coming to relieve Arthur.

“Just in time,” Arthur said by the way of greeting. “Arel and I have things to discuss and we’d be more comfortable if we don’t do it in front of the Princess’ door.”

The boy merely raised his eyebrows.

“Let’s go,” Arel said before Arthur could say something equally stupid. “Thank you but you’re wasting your time,” he added in an undertone as the two of them headed down the hall. “He knows what I do with his sister just like he knows what you do with Elia.”

“Men like me…” Arthur muttered, a puzzle solved. “He told me that he knew how men like me were.”

His brother shot him a look of irritation but it was hard to stay stern and distant when they had been just caught in the same transgression. It arose memories of shared mischief and punishment at Starfall in Arthur’s mind… and it seemed that it did in Arel’s, too.

“Yes,” the elder Dayne finally said. “He meant me. I’ve known for a long time that he doesn’t approve of me. Honestly, in his shoes I wouldn’t have approved of me either. When I imagine a married man coming after a widowed Ashara, unable to offer her anything, and this going on for years… if such a thing happens, I’ll kill him for sure.”

“As honest as ever,” Arthur said dryly, realizing what one of the threads that kept his brother and Larra Blackmont together was. They didn’t delude themselves that they were the victims in this story and that the world was unfair to them. They just accepted it as it was and were ready to pay the price knowing that they couldn’t blame people for placing blame on them. Arthur, on the other hand, had been so eager to lap at Rhaegar’s excuses and justifications why what he was doing was right this time… after Rhaegar had been proven wrong on this same matter not once but twice.

Arel gave him a long look. As had started happening lately, there was no hostility in those violet eyes, so similar to Arthur’s own. “If you want to keep going where I saw you emerging from, you’d better give up on claims of honesty, Arthur. You can serve her and her children always, with honour. After all, you only did what Rhaegar told you to. But don’t fool yourself. There’s nothing honest about what goes on at the other side of her door. Nothing honourable. Else, you would not have needed to hide in the shadows like Larra and I. And we both know that honour is in one’s mind. So, you must decide what you truly want, her or honesty. You can’t have both.”

Arthur did not hesitate. “I have already decided,” he said just when they went out of the building and into the blooming dawn with just a hint of shade.


End file.
